


I could be your boyfriend

by shuttermutt



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Misunderstandings, a smidge of angst, zayn is dumb sometimes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-27
Updated: 2012-08-27
Packaged: 2017-11-13 00:14:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/497246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shuttermutt/pseuds/shuttermutt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>If he’s honest with himself, Zayn knows he’s a little bit obsessed.</i><br/> </p>
<p>Or, the one where Zayn thinks Harry and Louis are fucking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I could be your boyfriend

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be Zayn/Louis/Harry but I am a failure at life, so. That'll have to happen sometime later. I can't even blame anyone for this, this time. What is my life.

Zayn watches Harry because he can’t help himself. It’s not like anyone else can either—Harry is loud and bright and visible; it’s hard _not_ to watch him sometimes. He’s charming and obnoxious and sometimes oblivious. If he’s honest with himself, Zayn knows he’s a little bit obsessed.

He’s not the only one in the band, though. He watches the way Louis looks at Harry, like he hung the sun and the stars and the moon with his fingers. His blue eyes track every single thing that Harry does, like if he isn’t watching, the whole world will fall apart or something equally ridiculous. 

Because Harry is mostly oblivious to everything around him that isn’t pints and pulling, he doesn’t even notice. He doesn’t notice that he’s got Louis and Zayn practically eating out of the palms of his hands; that, when he asks for anything, they’re right there ready to give him everything. Harry is selfish without even realising, spoilt without asking for it. They can’t help but treat him that way.

Louis catches him watching, sometimes, and he laughs and grins, but his eyes are always so serious, like he’s thinking _you can’t take him from me_. 

Zayn has never met a challenge he hasn’t taken up, before.

-

“Hazza!” Louis calls out, crashing into their flat like he doesn’t understand how his legs work. He stops short when he spots them on the couch. His face goes a bit wonky. “Hey,  
Zayn.”

Zayn’s leaning against the arm of the couch, watching him carefully. Harry’s been asleep in his lap for some time, face tucked up against his armpit and Zayn’s been petting his hair through it. He knows what it looks like, knows why Louis’ face has gone that way, but it’s stupid. Louis has no reason to be jealous of Zayn for this. He knows Harry will sleep on anyone who pets his hair for long, it’s happened to all of them at least once.

“Find anything interesting?” Zayn asks, taking his hand from Harry’s hair and putting it on his back. Louis tracks the movement.

“Not really.” Louis drops his bags on the floor and goes over to the couch, crouching down beside it. He puts his hand near Zayn’s and shakes Harry a bit. “Wake up.” He sounds plaintive and jealous. Zayn just wants to _hit_ him, sometimes.

Harry murmurs to himself a few times before turning his head and cracking one eye open. “Lou?” he mumbles. His hair’s all sleep-mused and there are red lines over his cheek from Zayn’s shirt.

“’Course. Let’s get you to bed proper, yeah? You’re probably giving Zayn pins and needles.” 

Zayn would object, but Louis is already cajoling Harry into getting up and making his way to his bedroom. There’s really no point, when Louis is having one of his fits. Louis comes back after a few minutes and goes to gather his bags, grinning at Zayn like nothing’s even happened.

“Gonna grab a smoke and head back home,” Zayn says, standing up. His legs _do_ ache a bit from falling asleep, but it’s nothing.

“You can chill,” Louis says, stashing his bags on the kitchen table. “Have a drink.”

“Nah. I’ll talk to you later, though.” 

It’s nothing he hasn’t dealt with before.

-

Louis meets a girl and he holds her hand in public and kisses her and wraps his arms around her shoulders. Zayn watches him and _burns_. He watches the way Louis’ eyes finally move away from Harry whenever this girl is around, but when she’s not, it’s like there’s nothing even going on.

They’re at some party and Louis has his girl on his arm, chatting to some radio DJ they’ve interviewed with before that Zayn can’t place. Harry is leaning against a wall, sipping some hideously pink drink from his cup and watching the crowd. Zayn sidles next to him, bumps their hips together.

“I love Louis,” Zayn says, grabbing Harry’s drink and taking a swallow. It burns going down and Harry actually looks at him. “But you don’t have to put up with his shit like this. It’s not right.”

“What are you even talking about?” Harry asks, getting his drink back.

Zayn nods at where Louis is dancing with his girl, nose tucked in behind her ear. She’s giggling and batting at his hair. “He’s not even being subtle about it. It’s still cheating even if you’re not out.”

“Don’t be stupid.” Harry downs the rest of his drink and throws the empty cup at Zayn’s trainers, because he’s a little shit. “I don’t care what Louis does. If Liam’s allowed to date, so is Louis.” He walks away to go chat at the cute bartender, leaving Zayn alone with a vague sense of doubt.

-

A few weeks later, they’re at some diner in the middle of America and Louis and Harry are playing footsie under their table, making faces at each other over their menus. Paul is watching them with a fond, exasperated sort of look on his face. Liam and Niall are at the jukebox on the other side of the diner, smacking each others’ hands every time they try to pick a song.

“Are Harry and Louis together?” Zayn asks. He’s got his hands shoved in his pockets and his sunglasses on, even though they’re inside and Harry had called him a prat. He had too much to drink the previous night and the lights in the diner make him want to die a little bit. Watching Louis and Harry makes it just slightly worse.

Niall shoves Liam away from the jukebox and presses what looks like an Elvis song while Liam tries and fails to rugby tackle him. “Dunno,” Niall says, grunting at the impact. “Does it matter?”

“Doesn’t Louis have a girlfriend?” Liam asks. He puts his arm around Niall’s shoulders, like they hadn’t just been trying to kill each other over a song selection. He’s eyeing Zayn speculatively. 

Zayn shrugs, kicks his sneaker against the cheap linoleum floor. He winces at the sharp noise it makes. “It’s whatever.” His stomach hurts and he’s not sure if it’s from his hangover or from this conversation.

“Zayn!” Harry calls out, laughing. “Come save me! Louis is trying to take all my chips!”

“No one can save you, now!” Louis shouts.

There’s no way Zayn is getting in the middle of all that noise. “I’m going back to the bus,” he tells Paul, heading to the front door. He ignores the tragic face Harry sends him for not coming to the rescue. Zayn just doesn’t want to deal, right now.

-

Their bunks are lousy and small and uncomfortable as hell, but Zayn honestly doesn’t mind. They remind him that they’re on the road, actually doing what they all want to do. Right now, though, he feels overheated and overcrowded and just generally uncomfortable. His stomach won’t stop rolling and there’s a pain between his eyebrows that feels like a knife being slowly shoved into his brain. He’s totally not pleased when the curtain to his bunk moves aside and someone presses into his front.

“C’mon, no, it’s too small in here for two,” he says, opening his eyes. Harry is grinning at him, still trying to climb into the bunk with him. “No way, this won’t work.”

“It’ll work if you stop complaining and scoot back,” Harry says. God, he’s such a _shit_ , sometimes.

Zayn moves so that his back is against the wall of his bunk. He’s lying on his side, facing Harry, who’s mirroring him. It’s cramped and uncomfortable, and every time Harry breathes out, Zayn can feel it on his face. It’s pretty much just the worst.

“What,” Zayn says, not really in the mood for this. Not right now.

“You left really quickly. I feel like I haven’t gotten to see your face in a long time.” Harry puts his hand on Zayn’s hip and rubs over the jut of bone there with his thumb. It would usually be soothing, but all it does is put Zayn more on edge.

“You see me every day. When we perform on stage. And do meet and greets and interviews and stuff. I’m always here. We live on a _bus_ together.” Zayn tries to move, tries to get more comfortable, but his knees knock against Harry’s and Harry makes the decision to tangle their legs together. 

Harry makes a face. “That’s not what I mean. Stop being that way. What’s up with you today?” 

“Nothing, whatever. It’s nothing.” Zayn knows he’s being unreasonable, but he’s hung over and he misses his mum and he hates being so far away from home all of a sudden. Harry and his stupid face and his stupid acceptance of Louis isn’t helping.

“You know, you don’t actually have to be the moody, artsy one just because it’s what all the magazines say you are,” Harry says, trying to go for light. There’s something off in his voice, though, and Zayn can tell he’s trying not to frown. 

Zayn blames not feeling well on the fact that he actually blurts out, “Are you and Louis sleeping together?” There’s no way he would actually _say_ it if he was in his right mind. The way Harry’s face goes sort of angry and closed doesn’t help.

“Fuck off, that’s not even funny. Why would you even ask that?” Harry untangles himself from Zayn and backs out of the bunk. “Maybe you should stay in here until you can remember how to not act like a dick,” he says before sliding the curtain closed.

None of it makes Zayn feel any better.

-

Louis corners him backstage after sound check. Zayn is exhausted from not sleeping well for the past few nights and all he wants is to curl up on the couch and pass out until it’s time to go on stage again. Instead, what he’s got is an angry Louis Tomlinson shoving him into the bathroom and locking the door after them.

“You need to fix this,” Louis says, jabbing his finger into Zayn’s sternum none-too-gently. 

“Fix what?” Zayn mumbles, rubbing over the sore spot.

“Whatever you said to Harry. It really upset him.”

Zayn knows exactly when he messed things up, but he’s surprised Louis knows what it was him. He’s not going to give that to Louis, though. “Why do I need to fix it? You’re the one sleeping around on him.”

Louis’ face goes weird, like he’s tasted something foul. “What are you on about? I’m not sleeping around on anyone.”

“What about Eleanor? You’re dating Harry, but you’re dating her, too, and that’s not right.”

“You fucking _prick_ , is that what this is about?” Louis asks, rolling his eyes. “Harry and I are not dating. We never have and we never will. He’s my best friend.”

“You always get jealous when someone else has his attention, though,” Zayn points out feebly. He has a sinking feeling in his stomach, like he’s been being stupid. He doesn’t like it.

Shaking his head, Louis says, “Yeah, well. I’m sort of a possessive bastard. You know that. I like having peoples’ attention. Especially his, since, y’know, best friend and all. Kinda goes with the territory. And if you haven’t noticed, you get jealous a lot worse than I do.” He pokes Zayn in the sternum again and the pain is sharp. “I’m guessing you said something dickish because you were jealous. So you need to fix it.”

Zayn bites his lip hard enough to actually sting. “Yeah. I do.”

-

It takes some begging, but Zayn gets the spare hotel key to Harry’s room from Paul that night. He might have had to promise his first born, but it’s probably worth it. The plastic is warm in his hand from the way he’s been clenching it almost desperately on the ride up the elevator and walk down to Harry’s room.

He doesn’t knock, just goes in. He’s not sure Harry would let him in if he knew it was Zayn calling.

“Fuck off, Tomlinson,” Harry mumbles, sprawled out on his bed, face smashed into the comforter. “Not tonight.”

“Sorry,” Zayn says, shifting awkwardly. “Not Louis.”

Harry jerks up and looks at him, eyes narrowed. “What do you want?” He’s snappish, which is actually sort of understandable. Harry doesn’t hold grudges long, but Zayn figures he deserves it, this time.

“To apologize. I’ve sort of been a right bastard to you, lately.” Zayn’s mouth feels dry even though his palms are sweating. He wipes them against his trousers.

“Yeah, you have been,” Harry says. He’s not making it easy on Zayn, then.

“I shouldn’t have said that about you and Louis. I know you two better than that. I’ve been informed that I can be a bit jealous.” Zayn shrugs and scuffs his trainer against the carpet. This is hideously uncomfortable. 

Harry licks his lips and sits up properly, staring at Zayn with his head cocked to the side. “Why’ve you been jealous?” Of course he would ask that.

“Because I fancy you,” Zayn says plainly, even though his heart is beating so hard he’s sure Harry can hear it from across the room. “It was driving me crazy, thinking Louis wasn’t treating you right.”

“Well,” Harry says, manoeuvring himself off the bed. He makes his way towards Zayn, but stops before they’re more than a foot apart. “I don’t like when people are jealous like that. It’s stupid and hurtful and nothing good comes from it.” 

Zayn nods. “I know. I didn’t mean to. Promise.”

Harry nods back. “I expect you to make up for it.”

“I will.”

“Breakfast in bed and foot rubs and everything.”

“Okay,” Zayn says, trying not to smile.

“Okay,” Harry says back. He takes the steps necessary to bring them toe-to-toe. “I guess I fancy you back as well. When you’re not being moody.”

Zayn grins and leans in until their lips are close enough that he can feel Harry’s exhalations. “Shut up,” he says and presses his mouth against Harry’s. He doesn't even care that Harry is laughing at him.


End file.
